


but deep inside our hearts we know

by theomegapoint



Series: Kinktober 2019 [16]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Food, Kinktober 2019, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:34:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22031146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theomegapoint/pseuds/theomegapoint
Summary: “Taste this for me,” Hunk says. Lance lets Hunk tip the spoonful of soup-esque liquid into his mouth. It tastes the way Lance remembers cherimoya to, sweet and blooming across the tastebuds like an unknowable impossibility. “Good?”“Have you ever in your life made anything, like, even mediocre? I’ll take mediocre.”“You don’t have to flatter me.” Hunk rolls his eyes, but his smile is pleased. “I’d cook for you no matter what. I’ll always cook for you.”
Relationships: Hunk/Lance (Voltron)
Series: Kinktober 2019 [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1503860
Comments: 1
Kudos: 45





	but deep inside our hearts we know

Hunk is always cooking. It’s just a fact of life, in the way that Pidge being surgically attached to a keyboard or Keith being grumpy is. A rule of the universe is that Hunk cooks and then feeds it to Lance, because that’s just. That's what betas do, isn’t it? They make sure everyone is fed and everything runs smoothly and it doesn’t _mean_ anything. Lance isn’t even the only person that Hunk feeds, so it’s clearly just a manifestation of Hunk’s beta instincts.

That doesn’t make it any easier to tamp down the way it makes Lance feel when Hunk does it. He’s an omega, after all, not that it’s ever really mattered. The Garrison wasn’t stupid enough to turn down talented candidates related to superstar ones, even if they are omegas. Everybody knew better than to hassle him about it, because making jokes about that sort of thing was a fast way to get expelled.

So people know he’s an omega and therefore Hunk has to know what it _means_ to feed an omega but then again he’s so nice that it probably doesn’t mean anything. Betas are supposed to do that. If they hadn’t ended up where they did, out past where anyone would know where they are or what was happening with them, then Hunk would have. They would have ended up on missions and it would have been the same.

Lance tells himself it would have been the same, because he doesn’t want to think about the fact that it’s a lie. It wouldn’t have been the same, because Hunk wouldn’t be warm and real next to him, holding out a spoon insistently.

“Taste this for me,” Hunk says. Lance lets Hunk tip the spoonful of soup-esque liquid into his mouth. It tastes the way Lance remembers cherimoya to, sweet and blooming across the tastebuds like an unknowable impossibility. “Good?”

“Have you ever in your life made anything, like, even mediocre? I’ll take mediocre.”

“You don’t have to flatter me.” Hunk rolls his eyes, but his smile is pleased. “I’d cook for you no matter what. I’ll always cook for you.”

Something flutters in Lance’s chest, warm and real, and he tries to tamp it down. Hunk would do this for anybody. Lance isn’t anything special. He’s not.

“You’re the best friend an omega could ask for.” Lance bats his eyelashes at Hunk, trying to make light of his feelings. He’s always been good at that. “Who else would make sure I’m fed and watered?”

“No one.” Hunk smiles at him before going back to stirring whatever it is he’s making. Lance can’t actually tell if it’s a soup or a drink. He doesn’t know if there’s a tangible difference when it comes to recipes that definitely came from aliens. “You’re stuck with me forever. I’ll try to make everything mediocre.”

The joke is that Hunk couldn’t ever make anything mediocre. Some people were just made to do things, and Hunk was made to cook—he’s a pretty good pilot and fighter too, but Hunk’s real talents lie in cooking. Every single place they’ve ever gone, Hunk has managed to learn something new and bring it with them so that they don’t have to constantly eat the same thing over and over again. If the universe wasn’t the way it is, Lance suspects that Hunk would’ve settled down to become a chef. Maybe he’d have a whole chain of restaurants.

When Hunk finishes cooking, he dishes it up for Lance first, which is clearly just because Lance is already right there, and then calls for the rest of the Paladins. They eat like a big, happy family and Lance knows that’s what Hunk wants. They talked about it, once, in the vastness of night. Hunk said he wanted a big family, just like the one he was used to, and Lance said he wasn’t sure if he wanted to have children.

Having tons of kids is expected for omegas, of course, but it’s just never really been. It’s not high on Lance’s list of things to do and it’s gotten even lower since they’ve gotten caught up in saving the world. When Lance is trying to convince himself that Hunk isn’t _his_ , he tells himself that he couldn’t give Hunk what he wanted anyway. They’re not in a place to be bringing a family into the world, so Lance swallows down his suppressants and doesn’t think about what could be.

“You know you’re being a fucking dumbass about this, right?” Pidge peers at him over the top of the laptop’s screen, and Lance fights the urge to shrink under the attention. “You can just ask Hunk out. It doesn’t have to be some big, life-changing thing. We can’t all be Keith and literally love our mate back from the dead.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Lance says. Pidge’s eyes narrow, and Lance pretends not to notice. “Me? Afraid to ask someone out? Perish the thought, young Pidge.”

“Fuck you,” Pidge says. Lance only barely manages to dodge the piece of scrap metal that Pidge throws at him. “I’m not that much younger than you.”

Just like that, the conversation’s over. It sticks in his mind, though, because maybe Pidge was onto something. Maybe he could just ask Hunk out and they could just ... be. Not everything had to be as dramatic as Keith and Shiro’s relationship—Lance wasn’t even sure that anything _could_ be as dramatic as the bullshit Keith pulled when he brought Shiro back from being a ghost or whatever the fuck happened there. Allura tried to explain it once and Lance’s eyes glazed over after the first minute.

Hunk holds out another spoonful of something, and Lance tastes it. This one reminds him of his abuela and the sweetness of yams mingled with the bite of garlic and citrus. It tastes so much like home he could cry.

“Mate me,” Lance says, which is not what he means to say. “I would eat this for the rest of my life.”

“We should probably court first,” Hunk says, going back to stirring. Lance stares at him, dumbfounded. “Otherwise we’re missing some important steps. Shiro can chaperone.”

“What?”

“Well, I mean. The options are Shiro and Coran and I don’t know about you, but I’d rather have Shiro.” Hunk looks over at Lance like he hasn’t just flipped Lance’s entire world on its head. “I’ve heard horror stories from Keith.”

“You want to court me.” Distantly, Lance is aware he sounds like an idiot but he can’t help it. His brain is having a hard time processing this turn of events. “You. Me. Together.”

“Did you not want to?” Hunk’s brow furrows, real concern on his face, and Lance’s heart constricts in a way that makes him feel a little bit like he’s going to die. “Sorry, that didn’t sound like a joke. You use different inflection when you’re joking, usually.”

“It wasn’t. A joke, I mean.” Lance swallows, still feeling like he’s about to wake up and this will all have been a horrible dream. “I, um. Can—can I kiss you?”

Instead of giving a verbal answer, Hunk just reaches out. He pulls Lance close, pressing their lips together, and it’s everything that Lance has always wanted. He can’t help the sad whimper that he makes when Hunk pulls away and Hunk laughs.

“I have to finish this,” Hunk says. He hasn’t let go of Lance yet, though, and this is the best thing that’s ever happened to him. “I’ll kiss you as much as you want later.”

It sounds like a promise, and Lance can't help the smile that spread across his face.

**Author's Note:**

> i have been neglecting the other vld otp (by which i mean i haven't written it??? at all?????) so instead of writing, you know, a good fic? i just wrote self-indulgent food description and pining


End file.
